


if i break the glass (then i’ll have to fly)

by Beta Shift (tashayar)



Series: Aux Crew Writing Club [Weekly Prompts] [1]
Category: Shield of Tomorrow (Webseries)
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Occupation of Bajor, POV First Person, Prompt: Childhood Memories, Roleplaying Character, USS Sally Ride Aux Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashayar/pseuds/Beta%20Shift
Summary: Few can lie better than I can.I am 12 and I am old enough to fire a blaster. I’m actually 10 and I’m pretty sure the commander of the resistance cell knows it, but he either doesn’t care or is desperate enough at this point to go along with it.





	if i break the glass (then i’ll have to fly)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [USS Sally Ride Aux Crew Writing Club](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=USS+Sally+Ride+Aux+Crew+Writing+Club).



> Title from Lindsey Stirling's "Shatter Me"

Few can lie better than I can.

I am 12 and I am old enough to fire a blaster. I’m actually 10 and I’m pretty sure the commander of the resistance cell knows it, but he either doesn’t care or is desperate enough at this point to go along with it.

It’s not surprising my aim is shaky, most younger recruits’ are. What is surprising is how I don’t tremble when face-to-face with the enemy. My friends find safety in distance; I find safety in knowing who I’m fighting. If I can look them in the eye, I can know what they want, and from there it’s not difficult to use that to get what I want.

What do I want? I’m not sure yet.

I am 12 and I am grateful to have found a home in the resistance. I’m actually 10 and my home is a cave somewhere on Bajor, far from where I was born.

I think the resistance calls my parents collaborators, and I don’t know what that means but I think it’s bad. It doesn’t matter though, they died with 198 other Bajorans who were suspected of being members of the resistance. I’m scared, I’m angry, and I’m confused, but I’m not sad. I feel something like sadness but that word just doesn’t fit. I feel so empty and I don’t even know how to express that, much less how to feel whole again.

I find the answer when I am 18. I’m actually 16, but the cell would never have agreed to let me carry out my plan if they knew that.

I can’t fill the emptiness by killing Cardassians – not that I could ever hit them anyway – but maybe I can fill the emptiness by making sure I do everything in my power to keep more Bajorans from dying. I learn what a suicide mission is the same day I sign up for one. Despite the name, I have no intention of letting anyone on this mission die. I ask myself if I’m included in that statement, and the emptiness inside me answers.

I am 18 and I convince the Cardassian that intercepts our mission to take me and spare the rest of the team. I’m actually 16 and I know I should be scared, but I only feel determination.

I’m not sure my plan is going to work, and I’m not sure even if it does work that the outcome will be more preferable than if we all got captured – no, sacrificed – as planned. The original plan was for one group to infiltrate while the other group distracted, and the goal was to stay alive long enough to get the plans we were looking for sent to our base. I go with the diversion group, but I break off from the rest and run straight into a Cardassian soldier. I let all the years I had added to my life fade away and manage to convince both the soldier and the rest of my team that I would betray everything I knew about them in exchange for my life.

No one asks how old I am again for a while.

The infiltration team is called back and everyone makes their escape; there’s no use in carrying out a plan that I had compromised. I have to give the Cardassians some information to get them to trust me, and while I try to only give locations of data and supply stores, there’s no proof my information doesn’t lead to the death of more resistance fighters. I realize I had been idealistic in thinking I could stop lives from being taken, but I’ve made it too far to turn back now. I am traded around, given deka tea like there’s no tomorrow, and live with what I’m doing by retreating into the emptiness I used to know so well.

I finally gain access to the sort of information that would justify everything I’ve done up to this point. The Cardassians don’t know I have this access, of course, but, with practice, having access to a Gul’s private quarters is all I need. I learn how to look helpless: it’s not hard. I also learn how to pay attention without looking like I am: that’s more difficult. I learn to think on my feet, learn to improvise, learn to keep track of the lies. It isn’t like it was back on Bajor where I could afford to fail at aiming a blaster. Here, if I don’t learn, I die. I find that what terrifies me more is the fact that if I don’t learn, those I care about will die.

While feeding information to the resistance, I meet the one person I know who can lie better than me, and this Cardassian lies so well I’m not sure if I ever got his real name. Elim says something to me that I don’t know whether to be proud or ashamed of: I have a coldness that rivals Gul Dukat himself. I don’t want to believe it for a while. I remember stories from the older fighters in my cell about how we used to be a peaceful people and try to convince myself that meant I couldn’t be capable of such cruelty. Despite how good I am at lying, I still have trouble believing that.

I am 19 and I have to defend myself to a tribunal of Starfleet admirals. I’m actually back on Terok Nor, lying to the face of a master interrogator without breaking a sweat.

The admirals want to know why they should trust me to be loyal to the Federation when I turned on my own people so easily, and after some time, comments are made of a personal nature. I freeze, and then, like ice, I shatter. I bring up every detail I know about each of the admirals on the council, including the ones that call into question their previous relationships, which I should have no way of knowing, not even through confidential Starfleet records. I leave that tribunal certain I would be expelled, and I face enough disciplinary action to ignite the rumors that had already begun to spread, but somehow, I stay.

Now, I am 23 and I am barely old enough to be an ensign in Starfleet. I’m actually 10 and I still don’t think I’ll ever really leave that cave on Bajor.


End file.
